


Chance

by wildandflowering



Category: Messiah Project - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, only a tiny bit shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildandflowering/pseuds/wildandflowering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for a tumblr meme for the prompt, "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?"</p><p>Sometimes being broken down on the side of the road isn't a bad thing.  Set between <i>Hisui no Shou</i> and <i>Hagane no Shou</i>, with a vague inclusion of the outcome of the former stage play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheStarsHaveAligned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStarsHaveAligned/gifts).



> this was very much an experimentation with characters i never write
> 
> scary!!
> 
> but in the end, it was fun and i hope everyone enjoys

Shuusuke ends the call and pockets his phone before leaning back against the side of the car, ignoring the way smoke still trails from the overheated engine. “The tow truck should be here in about an hour.” Of course, considering how far outside the city they had found themselves, it would be realistic to add some more minutes to that estimate. These things never really go to plan. Much like life, he’s discovered.

Beside him, Souma looks across the field to the sky, heavy with dark clouds. Heading their way, of course. His fingers are tangled up in string, Shuusuke notices. Souma’s hands had been shoved in his pockets when Shuusuke called the towing company; he works fast.

“That storm’s gonna get here first.” His eyes squint slightly and Shuusuke wonders if they’ve been separated for too long because he thinks he sees more laugh lines around his eyes than he remembers seeing last. Except they aren’t exactly laugh lines. Souma looks…older, in a way. His eyes are still bright and when he smiles it’s still like a little bit of sunlight has taken up residence in his very being, but there are bags under those eyes and his mouth is more susceptible to frowning.

Then again, Shuusuke highly doubts he’s any better off.

Souma shrugs and hooks his thumbs around one section of string to easily untangle the entire mess. Then he starts again, sliding fingers between and under and around and even though Shuusuke’s attention is bound to the activity, he still has trouble making sense of it.

Without slowing down, Souma smirks. “Good thing we don’t have a convertible, huh?”

“…Yeah.” 

It was all chance that they had even met up again in the first place. If Shuusuke’s plan had landed just five minutes later, or if he hadn’t let a woman holding her baby get off in front of her, he might never have seen Souma in the airport. They could have both coexisted in the same city for these few days of freedom and never even realized it. They could have frequented the same restaurants, just hours apart, or walked on separate sides of the street and not even thought to look across the way for that familiar face.

What a happy accident this has all turned out to be.

“You know, if I were a lesser man, I might be offended that you’re staring at my hands more than my handsome face.” Shuusuke’s head snaps up, eyes wide behind the frames of his glasses. Which, of course, brings a larger smile to Souma’s lips. “There you go. My eyes are – “

“Up here, I understand.”

Souma freezes. “Was that a joke?” Shuusuke shakes his head and rests it on the car. “Oh God, that was a joke. Hold on, I need to document this.”

Shuusuke doesn’t move as he listens to the soft untangling of string from skin and rustling of fabric and then the telltale quiet _click_ as Souma takes a picture with his phone. It’s fine, though. The breeze preceding the storm plays with Shuusuke’s hair, brushing it just enough that the ends tickle his face.

Just being here…being here with his Messiah – and they still are Messiah, they always _will_ be Messiah, despite having graduated a couple years prior – is enough for Shuusuke. He can close his eyes and know nothing bad will happen because Souma has his back. And he knows that Souma knows it goes both ways.

“You’ve gotten faster at that,” Shuusuke says. “The string game.” How many times had they sat in their room, Shuusuke reading or going over reports while Souma frowned at the mess his hands had made?

“Do anything enough times and you’ll eventually get better at it. Practice, repetition, all that stuff.” He scoots closer to Shuusuke, their shoulders bumping, and fishes the string out of his pocket again. Shuusuke turns to watch. “I was on a flight one time and sat next to a little girl and she saw me struggling with it. Turns out, I was using _this_ finger to pull up _that_ portion when it should have been a completely different finger.” Souma then proceeds to show the correct way. “Made me feel pretty dumb, but now I’m a champ.”

Shuusuke gently elbows Souma in the side. “Now you can show the next child on a flight how to do it.”

“The next child…” Suddenly Souma lets out a laugh. “Remember when I tried to show Eiri how to do this one time? Figured it’d help with his…” He gestures to the air in front of him with his string-bound fingers. “His everything.”

“I only remember screaming.”

“Well, yeah, that’s his thing, isn’t it.”

Too many mornings had been rudely cut short by screeching complaints of one matter or another, most dealing with something Haku had or hadn’t done. It’s not that Shuusuke didn’t like Eiri, he just could have done with a little bit of volume control. Okay, a lot of volume control.

Eiri, though… “I saw him in Irkutsk not too long ago.” _Just_ Eiri. And from a distance, so while he has an idea of what his former comrade’s fate has become, he isn’t completely sure. He can’t give false information to Souma.

Souma, who remains silent for a moment, thinking over this. “I’m guessing you didn’t chat since you were both in Russia, then. What about Haku?” Shuusuke shakes his head. It’d be hard to miss him, even in a crowd. “Ah, well. He’s the best with disguises. Maybe you _did_ see him and just didn’t realize it.”

That’s always a possibility, Shuusuke can’t deny it. But something in his gut tells him otherwise.

Ha. Going by his gut. He’s been around Souma too long.

…That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

The silence between them is filled with a deep rolling of thunder and Shuusuke raises his eyes to take in the clouds blowing by faster above them. And then –

He blinks as the first drop of rain hits his glasses. And then more fall and hit his face, his hair, his clothes. It’s a light rain right now, but if he doesn’t move, it’s going to downpour right on him. Beside him, Souma clucks his tongue and stuffs his string back inside his pocket. “See, I told you. Might as well sit in the car ‘til it passes.” He pushes himself off of the car and takes a step to round the vehicle, but Shuusuke reaches out, catching his wrist in his hold.

“Stay a while.”

Souma just stares, his brows coming together in confusion. “Oi…are you sick or something? First you’re cracking jokes, now you actually _want_ to stand in the rain when a storm’s coming.” He pulls up the sleeve on his free arm with his teeth before pressing his forearm against Shuusuke’s forehead, causing Shuusuke to laugh.

“No, you’ve just been a bad influence on me.”

Seemingly satisfied with Shuusuke’s lack of a fever, Souma pulls away…though he doesn’t pull out of Shuusuke’s grasp. “Bad influence, my ass. You’ve changed.” It’s not a condemnation. Just an observation.

“Just…enjoy this with me.” These few days of freedom, no plans to travel abroad, no orders. Just the feel of the rain and the wind and Souma’s hand as Shuusuke slowly loosens his grip, his fingers brushing over skin until they curl around the other man’s pinky and ring finger. “While we can.”

The rain continues to fall, slowly seeping into their clothes and hair, causing them both to blink against it, little hissing sounds reaching their ears as the drops turn to steam on the hood of the car. 

“Okay,” Souma nods. “While we can.” Souma understands. “YOLO, right?”

…Shuusuke sighs and closes his eyes, though his lips turn upward. “Please never say that again.”

“Yeahhh, you’re probably right.”

They give their fingers a single squeeze.


End file.
